1336 Salt Spring shack and mansion

The Royals Next Door
by Karina Halle

Toronto: Penguin Random House Canada (Berkley), 2021
$22.00 / 9780593334195

Reviewed by Miranda Marini

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Set on Salt Spring Island, “a small yet eccentric haven between Vancouver Island and the mainland [of British Columbia]” (p. 5), Karina Halle’s The Royals Next Door begins with the unpleasant image of seven-year-old Nicky Graves losing his lunch in our protagonist’s handbag. A “nice leather handbag” (p. 1) that had been inconveniently placed near the trashcan and that is now destroyed along with all its contents (including her wallet). This is only a glimpse into the exciting — but not always glamorous — life of second-grade teacher Piper Evans, who spends her free time reading and podcasting about romance novels. Aside from the queasy stomachs of her young students and despite the humiliating gibes from her ex-fiancé, Piper has found a quiet existence on the fringes of Salt Spring Island’s small community, and living in “an adorable cedar-shingle three bedroom [house] that used to be the servants’ quarters to the mansion next to it” (p. 8), she is happy with this semi-reclusive and wholly average lifestyle.

That semi-reclusive lifestyle, however, is anything but average and is quickly upended when a couple of high-profile strangers are rumoured to be in town. Intent on avoiding the surmounting chaos in the city centre even though she needs a new driver’s licence and despite her interest in the high-profile people, who inspire those rumours, Piper climbs into her Garbage Pail of a vehicle and heads toward her home at the tip of Scott Point. But, to her dismay, “a very tall, broad-shouldered tree of a man stand[s] in the middle of the road” (p. 8), blocking her path and refusing her entry unless she provides the proper identification to prove her place of residence — identification, of course, that now lives at the bottom of a garbage bin at her school. He isn’t a police officer — she’s certain of that — but he does seem familiar. And, when this haughty, brooding, sexy man introduces himself as Harrison Cole, personal protection officer “[b]y order of Her Majesty, the Queen of the United Kingdom” (p. 11), realisation hits. He is none other than the internet-famous “Broody Bodyguard and Sexy Secret Agent” (p. 11) to British royal Prince Edward and his wife, Monica Red, the Duchess of Fairfax, who seem to have taken a keen interest in the luxurious property next to Piper’s humble cottage.

With the royals moving in next door and with her proximity and friendship posing a potential security risk, Piper realises that she and Harrison may be put into closer quarters than either of them would initially like, but when paparazzi and royal scandals threaten her career and newfound friendships, she may find that having Harrison as a friend — and maybe more — might not be so bad.

Karina Halle, bestselling author of more than sixty horror, suspense, and contemporary romances, once again captivates readers with her latest contemporary romance, The Royals Next Door. Filled with intrigue, passion, and intensity, this feel-good novel — with a side of spice — will have you swooning at the sweet and often comical interactions between Piper and Harrison and will have you cringing from second-hand embarrassment as they navigate uncharted waters together. However, beyond the simplicity of budding romance, The Royals Next Door also delves into the very real issues of trauma and low self-esteem, simultaneously advocating the importance of therapy and self-love — something that Piper, at times, struggles to manage. Most notably, though, are her feelings of exclusion and of being an outsider in a small community.

Salt Spring Island, at its heart, is that — a small community. When I was young (no more than six or seven), I often visited my grandparents, who lived on the island during my childhood but who, unfortunately, moved to Kelowna during my adolescence. My grandfather was an English teacher at the local high school, and I have fond memories of weekend outdoor markets and the taste of salt in the air and watching the ripples of water as my grandfather taught me to skip rocks across the ocean’s surface. While I was too young to pay much attention to its community and its peoples, I do remember the island as an oasis, a “haven” as Piper describes. However, despite her profound connections to the island and its surrounding nature, Piper continually calls attention to her outsider status among the Salt Spring Island community, and I wonder if this is less of a comment on the community itself and more so on her deep-seated need to be wanted and to belong.

As the primary caregiver for her mother, who lives with borderline personality disorder (BPD) and dependent personality disorder (DPD), Piper had made the executive decision to move them both from the bustling city of Victoria to the more “quiet and peaceful” (p. 132) community of Salt Spring. Most newcomers, however, “only last a few years, [but] if you make it to five, then you’re considered a ‘real islander’” (p. 3). Piper has made it to five years but still feels like an outsider, which may, in part, be attributed to her own reluctance and hesitations to let others in, and this fear stems from the pre-existing trauma caused by her father’s abandonment and her ex-fiancé’s infidelity. It is due to these traumas that Piper maintains a healthy distance between herself and others, which is an interesting parallel as she states that the “pretty odd, tight-knit community tends to keep to themselves … because no one lasts very long … for one reason or another, so locals don’t want to get attached” (p. 60) — the community’s own form of self-preservation and distancing. However, as Piper begins to open up to Harrison and as their relationship begins to take form, Piper also finds herself opening to and situating herself within this small community, becoming a “real islander” as she had hoped.

While contemporary romance isn’t on my usual reading list, I thoroughly enjoyed The Royals Next Door and Karina Halle’s discussions of community and mental health. Overall, the community dynamics, the pop-culture references, and the steamy interchanges between Piper and Harrison make this a quick, enjoyable, and heart-warming read that can be enjoyed during these winter months.

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Born and raised in Kamloops, Miranda Marini teaches at Thompson Rivers University in the English and Modern Languages Department, where she pursues her interests in British Columbian and Canadian Literature. Academically, her interests include ethnobotanical relationships and interactions between human and non-human environments, particularly in relation to the representations of place, space, and landscapes in British Columbia and Canada. When she isn’t busy teaching, she can usually be found working on various poems, short stories, essays, and novels – all forthcoming — in addition to spending time with her three dogs: Walle, Levi, and Marley. Editor’s note: Miranda Marini has also reviewed books by Eddy Boudel Tan, Theresa Kishkan, Frances Boyle, Barbara Lambert, Martha Ostenso, Roz Nay, and Winona Kent for The Ormsby Review.

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